


Night Out

by melianthegreat



Category: The Grand Tour (TV) RPF, Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Hostage Situations, M/M, Psychological Drama, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-03-09 03:30:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18908641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melianthegreat/pseuds/melianthegreat
Summary: The guys are in a restaurant when it's taken over and they're held hostage.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rated Nature for some language and mild descriptions of violence. There is a moment not really for the squeamish.
> 
> There was an episode of Starsky & Hutch when I was a kid that was an inspiration for this. There are some key differences, though. If you find that episode I think you'll like it.

It was a long session at work. All three had to write their entries for their tribes, they had to go through a W. Chump & Sons quarterly report, and then an interview for a National Public Radio show in America. When they finished it was close to 8. 

Richard's stomach growled loudly. "If it wasn't time to knock off for the night, my stomach would be saying it is," he reported.

"I thought when we got to be old men we weren't supposed to work as hard," James complained.

"Who says?" Andy replied. "But the good news is there's nothing further that won't keep until tomorrow. "Get dinner, get some sleep. James, you and Hammond don't stay up too late doing God-knows-what to each other."

"Right," James acknowledged as Wilman walked away. "Where would you like to go, Hammond?" He asked. "I'm not really up for pub food, and it's a bit late for cooking."

"I know a place," Jeremy spoke up before Richard could say anything. "A little Italian place near my flat."

"Is it authentic?" James asked him.

"As authentic as it gets, but has Spaghetti Bolognese on the menu. Plus it's small, and the after dinner crowds are practically nonexistent. We won't be bothered. Wilman went with me a few weeks back and loved it."

Richard's eyes lit up at the mention of Spaghetti Bolognese. "Certainly beats a burger van," he replied. "I'm in, how about you, James?"

James shrugged. "It's either that or a cheese and pickle sandwich, and I don't want that."

Jeremy smiled. "Great. We'll park at my flat and walk there." 

Richard and James watched Jeremy go to gather his jacket and keys. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" Richard asked.

James smiled. "Of course," James answered. "Besides, with what I'd like to do with you later, I figured we'd need the carbs." James had a wicked gleam in those deep blue eyes. Richard's imagination began to run wild with thoughts of what this man had in store for him. _We'll eat fast_ , Richard thought to himself.

"Oh, no you don't!" Jeremy growled. "No talk about you two having sex in my presence!"

"Relax, Clarkson," Richard tutted at him. "It's not like we're discussing having sex with each other under the table!"

"Though, much younger versions of ourselves might have entertained the idea," James added to Richard's laughter.

"In that case, you might have been tempted to join in," Richard added to James' statement, laughing harder.

Jeremy took a beat and waited for Richard to calm down. "You two are trying to put me off of eating," he said quietly, "and it's not going to work."

"Not much appears to put you off eating, Clarkson," James noted, staring Jeremy up and down.

Jeremy levelled a haughty state at him. "I'll have you know," he sniffed, "that I have the appetite of a bird."

Richard arched an eyebrow. "Only if the bird in question is a pterodactyl," he replied. All three men collapsed in laughter; this had been an old joke between them, guaranteed for hilarity.

"Enough," Jeremy threw up his hands in surrender. "Dinner's on me, if you two promise no sex under the table."

"I'm not arguing with that." James walked out the door.

***

In a seedy hotel near London Airport, two men sat. Eddie--dark hair, dark eyes, American--watched a movie on the telly. His partner, Lugo--English, short silver hair--played Solitaire at the table.

"Why don't they call?!" Eddie whined. "Shouldn't we know something by now?"

Lugo looked at him patiently. Eddie was new to these things, didn't realize part of the job was the waiting. "They'll call when they call," he answered simply. "They have to get this right. We'll only have one chance at this guy, it has to be a good one."

Eddie sighed. "I'm bored," he said. "I heard we had a job in London, and I thought we might get some sightseeing in before it happened. At the very least I wanted to get drunk and get laid. Instead you tell me they could call at any time, so we have to be ready to go at a moment's notice. And while I do enjoy your company, after three days, honestly...I want to be in someone else's company."

"Preferably female," Lugo answered, "though I have heard you won't turn down the right man. Sorry I don't swing that way." Eddie frowned. "Look, in other jobs there might be time for sightseeing or getting drunk before we have to do the work, but not this one. This is a big deal. The target is active and likes to be in public a lot. So it has to be the perfect place and time. And since we don't know when or where that might be, we have to be patient and sit tight." Lugo's mobile began to ring. "You see? Patience." He answered the phone and listened in silence for a few minutes. When he finished he found Eddie was staring at him intently. "Tonight," he announced. "He's attending a play, dinner afterwards. The restaurant is small, family-owned. Sort of out of the way. We'll hit him there. Midnight."

"Perfect," Eddie smiled. "We'll walk in, blast him, walk out. Out of London before the cops finish processing the scene."

Lugo shook his head. "If we were in America, that might be the way to do it. Not here," he replied. "We'll go in at 10, have a nice, quiet dinner. There won't be many customers. Around 11 we'll take control of the place and tell whatever customers are there to act as normal. So when our target walks in at midnight with his bodyguard he'll settle down to a nice, quiet dinner. In the middle of it, then we'll take them both out, walk out, and be out of London before the cops finish processing the scene."

Eddie sighed. "At least we get a good meal out of it," he stated. He stood. "Let's get ready to go eat."


	2. Chapter 2

The restaurant held every single cliche anyone could find in any stereotypical Italian restaurant from any movie or TV show in the 1970s. There were checkered tablecloths, candle holders with fake netting around them, pictures on the walls of famous Italians like Frank Sinatra, cheesy Neapolitan music playing in the background. "The decor is terrible," Jeremy warned Richard and James as they walked over to the restaurant. "But it's clear they've put all their money into the food." 

They sat in a booth in the corner, looking out into the dining room, and ordered a carafe of wine. Across from them was another booth with a card marked _Reserved_ on the table. Richard was delighted to order his beloved Spaghetti Bolognese,and the next little while was spent eating and enjoying themselves. Underneath the table was quite active between Richard and James: gentle squeezes of hands and every now and then a surreptitious stroke of a leg by a well-placed foot. They were actually behaving themselves for Jeremy; during a dinner one night James slipped off a shoe and fondled Hammond's lap with a sock covered foot. His facial expression remained calm the entire time, though Richard thought he might choke to death on his water. It had been a forerunner to a fun night. 

While they were having dessert Eddie and Lugo came in and sat at a table across from the empty booth, appearing as customers enjoying their dinner. But there was something about them that Richard noticed wasn't quite right; maybe it was the way they kept glancing at the empty booth, maybe it was a sense of nervousness he could feel coming from them. Whatever it was, the Hamster-sense was ticking.

"Maybe we should leave," Richard whispered to James and Jeremy.

"Why?" James asked.

Richard nodded toward Eddie and Lugo. "You see those two? They're trouble. Too twitchy."

"You're the one being twitchy, Hammond," Jeremy replied. "Take some deep breaths."

"I'm telling you they're up to something and it isn't good," Richard argued.

Jeremy stared intently at Eddie and Lugo, reading them. And what he at first dismissed as twitchiness on Hammond's part seemed clearer now. But only when Eddie suddenly stood up and headed back toward the kitchen did Jeremy decide maybe cutting this dinner short might not be a bad idea. "Uh oh," he muttered.

Before he could say anything else, however, Lugo stood up with a gun in his hand. "Everyone freeze!" he shouted, "Nobody move!"; in the kitchen Eddie's voice could be heard ordering the kitchen staff to stop. There was some initial reaction, other diners shouting with alarm and throwing up their hands. "Now ladies and gentlemen," Lugo continued when everyone was more calm, "My partner and I are not here to hurt you, but we need your full cooperation. You--" he pointed at the waitress, "grab wallets and purses and put them on this table. You--" he pointed at Jeremy, "need to take the phones. I don't want anyone making a sneaky call. Move!" Jeremy and the waitress gathered everything as Lugo ordered, placing them on the table by the time Eddie returned from the kitchen. 

"They're locked up in the pantry," Eddie announced. Looking around the room he gave a grin. "As I'm sure my colleague had told you, we're not going to hurt you, if you cooperate with us. We're here to do something else, but we need you to stay calm and act as normal. If you do that, you shall all be released unharmed." The two men proceeded to remove the money from the gathered booty, each taking turns to watch the diners.

"They don't seem to be interested in the credit cards," Richard observed.

"It's easier to get away with cash," James answered. "Five minutes after we're released everyone will be on with their banks to report the cards stolen."

Richard could feel his chest tighten. He glanced over to James, who was holding him by the wrist and could feel the tension. _I'm sorry, James._

 _We're going to get out of this, Rich. Stay calm._

Richard took a deep breath and slowly released it. After his first big accident he had been subject to anxiety and panic attacks, and had learned to deal with them through Deep Breathing techniques. They had continued to help him during some stressful situations.

Richard figured a hostage situation might be a highly stressful situation.

He was going to need to take quite a few deep breaths before this was over.


	3. Chapter 3

A few minutes later, under the watchful eye of his accomplice, Lugo fished out all the drivers licenses and IDs. He read out the names and memorized their faces. There had been an elderly couple, a married couple in their late 30s, a brother and sister in their 20s who were double dating, and the boyfriend of the waitress, the daughter of the owner, sitting at the bar talking to her. The waitress was behind the bar itself.

Lugo came to the last few and looked at the names, matching the faces. Then he looked again. "James May." James nodded. "Jeremy Clarkson." Jeremy blinked. "Richard Hammond." Richard slightly raised his hand and waved in acknowledgment. The others in the room looked over at them. "Where have I heard those names before?" Lugo continued to look, then Jeremy saw the light of recognition in his light blue eyes.

"Bloody hellfire," Jeremy swore under his breath, "he knows who we are."

Confirming his assessment, Lugo gave a slight grin. "Hey, Eddie, do you ever watch programs on Amazon?" Lugo asked.

"Sometimes. Why?"

"We have celebrities," Lugo answered. "These three are part of a car show in Amazon. A big, big success from what I've read. They're worth individually more than what we're contracted for with this job." All three men felt their blood freeze; even though they really only saw themselves as presenters, there was always the possibility that someone would get the bright idea to hold one of them for ransom. Individually they could defend themselves if needed, but they couldn't do it for long, and this was not the best time or place to do so.

"Really?" Eddie replied. "We may have to branch out and demand a ransom. But you don't strike me as much of a car guy."

"They were all over the telly here in England before Amazon," Lugo explained. "Game shows, documentaries, the lot. This one here..." he waved vaguely at Jeremy, "is very opinionated and loud. He lost his job at the BBC for it, and the other two quit in solidarity."

"A regular Three Musketeers, huh?" Eddie answered. "One for all and all for one and all that?"

"No truer words," Lugo answered back. "Quite the scandal. These two..." waving at James and Richard, "fell in love and got married."

"Wait. _Gay_ car show hosts?"

"Shocking, isn't it? Especially since one of them was married to a quite beautiful woman and had kids and a house. Gave it all up for true love. Divorced her and gave her everything." 

Eddie took a quick glance at Richard and James. "The sex must be pretty damn good," he responded, "because if I'm leaving a beautiful woman for someone else, at least I'm making sure I trade up." Lugo grabbed Richard's wallet and found a picture, giving it to Eddie to have a look. "Wow," Eddie said softly. "Your ex-wife wife is hot. So are your daughters. And you left that for him?! Are you crazy?"

"Not quite," Lugo responded, "just brain damaged." James could feel Richard tense next to him again, this time from anger rather than anxiety. "Bad accident several years ago. In a coma. A miracle that he survived, but he's not entirely the same."

Eddie smirked. "Explains things," he responded. "Because he must be pretty brain damaged to think somehow he's better than her." Then he laughed. James and Jeremy both laid their palms flat on Richard's chest to keep him seated. While Richard's temper could be sudden and very blustery, there were few things that could render him genuinely violent. Threatening his family was one. Threatening James was another. And then, the line people learned to never cross: mentioning the brain damage in an effort to deliberately piss him off. That was Kryptonite, a DEFCON 1 action. James and Jeremy had been firsthand witnesses. Not long after James and Richard brought themselves out as a married couple, one of the paparazzi dared to make the same suggestion Eddie had just made. It was intended to get a reaction, just like now. All three had been at the National Television Awards reception when it happened, and had to quickly pull him into the men's loo and lock the door to keep Richard from going after the reporter. Even hours later, Richard had wanted to track the reporter to his home and beat the shit out of him. It was the test of James' endurance to keep it from happening, reminding Richard he would end up in jail for assault. Granted, beating the shit out of Eddie wouldn't be so bad, but Eddie was holding a gun. So was his partner Lugo.

Then there was a commotion. Eddie had been momentarily distracted with mocking Richard, which gave an opportunity for the boyfriend of the waitress and the married man in his 30s to mount an attack, trying to end the situation. They rushed Eddie, wrestling for the gun. The gun was fired wildly in the struggle. Customers ducked and screamed. Bullets hit a large mirror with a certain beer painted onto it as a promotional decoration, mounted right over the booth where, Jeremy, James, and Richard were sitting. All three ducked, James protectively covering Richard as shards of the mirror rained down on them. There were more shots, more screaming. And then silence.

When James lifted himself off Richard, there was a scene of chaos around him. Other customers were just emerging from under the tables. The two men who tried to attack Eddie were dead. "YOU SEE?! YOU FUCKING SEE?!" Lugo shouted at everyone. "We told you if you played nice nobody would get hurt, and did you listen? They didn't listen, now they're dead. WE ARE NOT FUCKING ABOUT!"

Suddenly, as the initial shock wore off, James felt a very sharp pain, sourced at the flesh where the shoulder meets the base of the neck and radiating out. He looked at Richard, who's face had gone white and whose eyes were seemingly as large as moons.

Then he saw the blood. His blood.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Squirm alert for those who freak out over blood and possibly gruesome injury.

"Fucking hell, James!" Jeremy gasped loudly. "We need help over here!"

A large shard of the shattered mirror had gone into James' left shoulder and deeply embedded itself like a meat cleaver; blood was flowing out of the gash.

James couldn't see the full extent of his wound, but he could take a good guess that it wasn't pretty. "It's not a little cut, is it?" He asked, trying to be funny.

"Well, put it this way," Richard tried to give a weak grin, "if you hadn't covered me, that would have sliced my face in half."

"It hurts like hell," James complained. Part of him wanted to see the extent of his wound, but another part of his mind argued against it. A sense of denial might even keep him calm and alive at this point.

Lugo came over to see, frowning at what greeted him up close. "Bring over a couple of bottles of whiskey and all the linens you can gather," he said to the waitress. "And the first aid kit. The shard needs to be removed."

"Do you see how much it's bleeding?" Jeremy asked, his tone sharp. "That might be the thing holding the blood back."

"The shard has to be removed to bandage the gash," Lugo argued. "Let him swill half a bottle, pour half on the gash, then remove the shard. After, pour the other half on it to disinfect, then pack it with linens to help control the bleeding. Then bandage him."

"And then you'll call 999 and make sure he's free to seek medical help?" Richard asked.

"No," Lugo answered. "My associate and I have a job to do, which we should complete in roughly an hour. He will keep until then if you do what I tell you. Now get to work." The waitress, crying, handed over the first aid kit and whiskey. "In the meantime, you two gentlemen over here are about removing those two..." Lugo walked away.

James downed half the bottle of whiskey in record time. "This is really going to hurt, isn't it?" he slurred to Jeremy and Richard. "Be honest."

"Yeah," Jeremy told him. "Rich, pour the whiskey." Richard poured half the bottle on James' shoulder; James gritted his teeth and hissed in pain, unwilling to let Lugo and Eddie hear much. Jeremy used a cloth napkin to grab the shard of mirror without slicing open his own hand. "You ready?" he asked James. James nodded. "When this comes out, don't be a man about it. If you want to scream, swear, whatever, do it. Rich, be ready to pack it." Richard nodded.

Jeremy got a firm hold. Richard looked into his husband's eyes.

Jeremy pulled.

The blood poured out dark and deep. James let out a loud scream, and passed out as Richard poured more whiskey into the gash. He packed linens onto it, exerting pressure to try to control the bleeding. Jeremy taped them down. "He's going to need stitches, lots of them," Richard said to Lugo and Eddie. "The longer we wait the more likely he'll start bleeding again. Whatever job you have planned for later, a bleeding customer is going to complicate things even more."

Both men considered a moment. "Does the manager's office have a sofa?" Lugo asked the waitress. She nodded. "He'll be brought back there, with the door left open to keep an eye on him or anyone tending him. No trying to sneak out the window." When all was made ready , Jeremy and Richard carried James back and laid him there. Richard caressed his pale face with concern. 

"Come back out here," Eddie ordered at the doorway .

"For God's sake, let one of us stay until he regains consciousness!" Jeremy replied, exasperated. "He has to be told to lie still or he'll start bleeding again. If he wakes up and wanders out of the office at the wrong time..." Eddie looked uncomfortable . "Look, two men are already dead," Jeremy quietly reasoned. "Maybe that can be argued as self defense, but whoever it is that's contracted you for this other thing might like to keep this as not messy, right?"

"He can stay until your friend regains consciousness," Eddie nodded over to Richard. "Once that happens he can be checked on periodically."

"Thank you," Jeremy answered . He looked back over to Richard. "Make him comfortable, Hammond," he said and walked back out to the dining room. He sat at a neighboring booth, their booth now covered with the shattered mirror the waitress was now busy removing and clearing the debris. Jeremy's mind was running. He'd left James and Richard together for a purpose. James was a megabrain, among those acquainted with him a certifiable genius. As much as he tried to hide it for the cameras, Hammond was a megabrain, too, even more so since the accident and he felt the exercise would aid in healing; hence the fury at anyone inferring that brain damage equated inability. There had always been something extraordinary about the relationship between Richard and James that was even more than the fact they were in love with each other. There was something about how their brains and intelligence worked together that was special. Even Andy knew it: Jeremy and Richard were fun and naughty, Jeremy and James were fun and informative. James and Richard had lunatic creative genius. In a serious moment like this, even with James not operating on all cylinders, they would find some way of getting out of this. One would inspire the other.

At least he hoped.


	5. Chapter 5

James came around slowly, feeling the sofa underneath and wondering if perhaps he'd dreamt all of it. Until the searing pain in his shoulder reminded him. He looked over and saw Richard staring at him intently. "Hi," he whispered softly, kissing the hand he held. James tried to sit up. "No, no, lie still," Richard cooed to him. "You're going to be fine, but you need to lie here or your shoulder will start bleeding again."

"What about..are _they_ still here?"

"Yeah," Richard answered. "They did allow you to be brought back here. I guess they don't want you to screw up their other plans, at least, any more than they're already screwed." He sighed. "Two are already dead, James."

James gave Richard a long look. "Jezza."

Richard grinned slightly. "He's okay so far," he announced. "You know, he really can keep his mouth shut when lives are at stake." James tried to chuckle, but stopped when it was clearly too painful. Richard turned quite serious. "I'm getting you out of here," he said softly. "You need help. We all need help. And I think I know how to do it."

"I admire your bravery, Hammond," James whispered. "But no heroics. I want you alive when this is over."

Eddie looked in. "Okay, he's awake," he said. "You have to come out and join your friend. Move it. He can be checked again soon."

Richard kissed James' forehead. There were no words exchanged, but James could see the glow in his husband's dark brown eyes and knew an idea had formed in his head.

Richard walked over to Eddie. "If you don't mind, I think I need to use the loo," he requested. "I've had a couple of glasses of wine, and a heavy Italian meal. Plus my hands are sticky from blood and I need to clean them before tending him again."

"Makes sense," he replied. "But I come in with you."

"Fine," Richard answered. 

Eddie followed Richard to the men's room and Richard entered a stall. Stress could upset Richard's digestive system and cause problems, so it was the perfect cover for what he really wanted to do. When Lugo grabbed the mobiles, Jeremy watched Richard hand his over. But what only Andy Wilman knew was that Richard had a second mobile. One for work, one personal. He fished the sneaky mobile from his front pocket and began typing, all the sounds of the phone--including the keyboard clicks--turned to Silent.

_Call 999. Hostage w/ May & Jez. At cafe Jez told about. Hurry plz._

Richard hit Send and put it quickly back in the pocket, hoping Andy would do it. Panic suddenly gripped him. If Eddie or Lugo realized he'd done this he was as good as dead, likely along with James. But he was willing to do this for James. The man who had done nothing more than love him, even through times he couldn't really be loveable. Even through the times of denial and doubt, through the nightmares of injury and illness and divorce.The man who was now losing blood at a more alarming rate than anyone dared to imagine. So he took several deep breaths to slow down his rabbiting heart, flushed, and exited the stall. He washed his hands and exited, sitting across from Jeremy in the new booth.

Eddie decided a bathroom break was in order for everyone, so he escorted them by table. 

"How's May?" Jeremy asked Richard.

"In trouble, Jez," Richard answered directly, looking right at him. "That gash is much deeper than we thought. Sooner or later he's going to lose enough blood to go into shock. I can't let that happen."

"In a way, it might be better if he did," Jeremy muttered. Richard looked at him sharply. "I think we're all running out of time here. Lugo hasn't said what this job is he's here to do, but considering the circumstances, I think it's a hit on someone. Someone big. And once that's done the contract is up." There was silence between them while Richard worked out the implications.

"No witnesses," Richard said solemnly. Jeremy nodded. "Fuck."

"Before that happens, they'll probably get it in their head to take care of James," Jeremy stated. "Putting him out of his misery, as it were. Plus he's the weakest and wouldn't put up much of a fight right now."

Richard shook his head. "I won't let them do that," he argued, his dark eyes full of determination. "They'll have to kill me while I'm covering his body with mine."

Jeremy noded. He knew certain things in his existence. There was no shaking his belief in them, no point trying to convince him he was wrong about them or demonstrate the opposite, he just knew them. And among them was the sure and certain knowledge that there were only a few people Richard Hammond would kill to protect, so deeply his love ran, the ones he would die for as a sacrifice. His daughters. His ex-wife. And James. It was certain as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west. And he was equally sure James would do the same for him. It was the reason Jeremy and Andy worked so hard over the years to keep their privacy, had weathered the storm when they were finally out, defended them from the ignorant and backward, sometimes the vicious and hate-filled. Very few men ever found this kind of love outside of parenthood, the love one human being had for that one special person. James and Richard had it, to the point where Jeremy knew Richard just meant every single word he said. He would allow Eddie and Lugo to pump bullets into his body to protect James. Even if they would kill James after they made sure Hammond was dead.

Eddie came to their booth. "Bathroom break," he announced to Jeremy. "Let's go." Jeremy left with Eddie , leaving Richard alone. He noticed the waitress walk over to Lugo and speak to him. Lugo nodded, then turned to everyone else.

"The waitress is going to give you something to eat or drink," he announced. "We need to make everything look as normal as possible for our next visitor. Once we deal with them, it will be over. Thank you for your cooperation."

Richard felt vibrating against his body. It was word from Andy that he received the message, though he couldn't confirm it; he'd be killed outright if they spotted the mobile. Then they would execute everyone else, though it was likely that was their plan all along. He felt the panic rising again. Keep it together, Rich, he told himself. Don't tip your hand, breathe slow and deep. Do it for James, for Izzy, for Willow, for Jezza. Don't freak out.

He hoped the Cavalry would arrive soon.


	6. Chapter 6

When Jeremy returned from the loo, the waitress took his order for coffee. Jeremy had really wanted wine, but he figured whatever happened he needed to keep his wits about him; there was time to get drunk later if they got out of this alive. He and Richard were separated, Richard being ordered to sit by the bar; the waitress told Richard he was to be left in the manager's office with James soon, and needed to appear to the visitor that he was a manager. In the meantime a few of the kitchen staff were freed from the pantry to prepare the meal; threats were made to kill the others if anyone had the bright idea to run or seek help.

Two men entered the restaurant. One was dressed in black and was quite large. The other wore a silvery suit that Jeremy guessed came from Savile Row. His hair was equally silvery. He had a seat at the reserved booth while the large man in the black suit stood to the side. Once again, Eddie and Lugo were seated at their table. The waitress walked over to the booth and made some conversation with the gentleman. Then she went into the kitchen, returning moments later with salad and a carafe of wine. The restaurant was eerily quiet.

Richard locked eyes with Jeremy, knowing this was probably the very last time he'd ever see his mate, someone who'd had his back, who'd gotten him drunk and shared a laugh with, who'd listened to Richard and occasionally kicked his arse over James and what may or may not have been going on in their relationship. Who'd sat with him in a hospital more than once to help him recover from injuries, and who'd married him and James in Aruba, and had gotten himself secretly ordained online to do it. Jeremy was going to die soon, and so was James, and so was he.

Richard stood and walked down the hall to the manager's office, going to what appeared to be his death.

***

Richard sat on the floor by the sofa and took James' hand into his. If this was going to be the end, this was where he wanted to be, by the side of the man he loved. The linens used to help bandage the wounded shoulder had soaked through now. James's skin was starting to become clammy and grey in hue and he was drifting in and out.

"Rich?" he heard James whisper, and it was only then that Richard realized that his mind had been wandering.

"I'm here," Richard answered back, squeezing his hand.

"They're going to kill us soon, aren't they?" James asked. Richard blinked; there was no way in hell James could have heard that conversation between Richard and Jeremy, this was something he'd worked out on his own.

Richard nodded. "I think so, yes. But I got a text to Andy. Hopefully help will get here before that happens."

There was a pause. "You're brave," James told him. Another pause. "I love you."

Richard's response was to lean over and kiss him gently, to hide the tears that wanted to fill his eyes. For the longest time he'd been prepared for death: living his life on the edge in one way or another made it a possibility, even if he tried to take precautions to keep it from happening. And he figured Jeremy and James were probably prepared for it, too. But it wasn't fair to see it happen to them. There was so much more they could contribute to the world, even if just giving someone a laugh once in a while. "You daft old man, I love you, too."

"Will you stay with me?" James asked.

"Of course," he said. "I won't leave you." James sighed.

Outside the barred windows of the manager's office, Richard saw flashing blue lights.

And he heard gunshots in the dining room.


	7. Chapter 7

Jeremy loved to watch old movies and crime shows. They were utterly ridiculous, usually involving explosions that were implausible and melodramatic writing. He never considered he'd actually be living one, or that he would die in one.

He watched the man in the booth enjoy what was going to be his last meal on Earth, Jeremy knowing this was exactly like a Hitchcock movie; Alfred Hitchcock said famously that you could give everyone a quick scare by having a bomb unexpectedly go off in a scene, but you give everyone an even longer (and better) scare if you show the bomb first. To the other customers in the restaurant, there was a bomb sitting under the man's table. And once the bomb went off, Lugo and Eddie wouldn't think twice about leaving behind no witnesses. They were simply keeping everyone calm with a false promise of freedom. And why wouldn't they eliminate the witnesses? They could testify how those two already killed two men, plus who they were supposed to kill, not to mention leaving one to die in the back room from his injuries.

Something about this idea told Jeremy not to blindly accept his fate. Maybe it was the knowledge that the man in the back slowly dying of his injuries was his mate James, maybe it was that he wasn't ready to die himself just yet. But to simply give up was going out as a coward. When he got into that scuffle he could have denied it, but he reported it himself, knowing there would be consequences from his employer. When the BBC took the show away from him he could have gone on every chat show in the nation to defend himself, or write a book that tried to claim how he'd been in the right the whole time and Oisin got exactly what he deserved and he was lucky it wasn't more. But he took the heat. He could have just faded away from existence when the media wanted to crow about his spectacular fall from grace; instead he got some perspective, grew up a little, and he and his mates came back stronger. That's how he was feeling now, like even if he was going down, he wanted to go down swinging. But how could he do that?

Out of the corner of his eye Jeremy caught the reflection of a flash of blue. Somehow the cops had come for them. At the same time he saw Lugo and Eddie stand up. They were going to walk across the dining room and stand in front of the booth and shoot the men. Jeremy had to give the authorities time to come in and stop what was about to take place. He stood.

"Oh my God, Lewis?!" he asked, throwing his arms wide and approaching Lugo. This could easily end up with him as a dead man, but now Lugo had to make a choice: either deny it and not do what he was going to do, because it probably involved taking out the man and the bodyguard at the same time, or Lugo and Eddie would have to subdue him, perhaps even kill him, and then it would have been revealed. "Lewis Grimsdale, from the Repton School? That's you, isn't it?"

Lugo looked downright enraged and dangerous, knowing Jeremy was providing some kind of distraction, but forced to play along unless he tipped his hand. "I'm sorry sir, who do you think I am?" He asked as someone would who'd been mistaken for someone else. 

"Lewis Grimsdale," Jeremy answered, forcing a smile. "We went to the Repton School. You grew up four streets away in Doncaster." He looked again, making a show of it, trying to stretch the time. "You're not him?"

"No, I'm not, Mr. Clarkson, though I appreciate your efforts to stall the inevitable." Lugo and Eddie pulled out their guns, forcing Jeremy and the bodyguard to sit at the booth as well. This was bad, Jeremy realized. There was no way in hell that bodyguard would give up his gun, otherwise there would be no point to him being here, and the bodyguard would likely shoot anyone who tried. If the bodyguard did his job and pulled out his own gun to start close combat, Jeremy was too close to not be caught in the crossfire. And then Eddie and Lugo would take the opportunity to do what they were supposed to do anyway, even if they died in the process. _This is it, then_ , he said to himself. Jeremy loved his life, loved the ones he was leaving behind, but there was no way out of this moment. 

There was a sudden crash and Lugo lunged forward, stumbling, gun knocked to the floor. The waitress had grabbed a large, heavy serving tray, and swung it, hitting Lugo in the upper back, stunning him temporarily. Eddie swung around and pointed his gun at the waitress, intending to shoot the woman. There were other screams in the dining room. But the distraction was enough for the bodyguard, who pulled out his own gun and shot at Eddie. Jeremy and the other man ducked under the table as they saw a sudden spray of blood and then Eddie fell backward. From this position Jeremy could only see feet, the others trying to take cover, and he could see Eddie, who was quite apparently dead. There were other shots; Lugo, who had regained his gun, was firing at anyone he could. In the distance Jeremy could hear the door slam; he realized that was Richard, doing anything he could to protect James.

But would it be enough?

***

Screams were accompanying the gunshots, and a sound of a commotion. Lots of crashing and banging as things fell or were turned over. 

Richard crawled over to the door, unable to see what was happening in the dining room, but knowing Jezza was out there in that panic. There was nothing he could do for his mate, but he could protect James to the last, spending his final moments with him. He slammed the door shut, locked it, then placed the chair in front of it. Then he returned to James' side.

James said nothing, but placed his hand on Richard's cheek and caressed it. They promised _to death do us part_ to each other, and now they were going to do what many couples were unable to achieve. They smiled at each other. The three of them, along with Andy, had adopted the term _ambitious but rubbish_ for themselves many years ago, and they'd done some wonderfully daft, epic things that ended in spectacular, natural failure: the caravan airship, a Reliant Robin as a space shuttle, launching a Mini off the Lillehammer ski jump. But not this. It was the few times achieving _ambitious and successful_ : crossing the Makidikadi, the North Pole, the Nile, Bonneville. James maxing a Bugatti Veyron twice. Richard coming back from certain death twice.

Silence came from the dining room.The sound of footsteps could be heard outside the doorway. It was happening the way Jeremy had predicted.

"This is it," James whispered.

"Yeah," Richard whispered back.


	8. Chapter 8

From under the table Jeremy saw more feet rushing in, and loud shouts for Lugo to drop his gun. He saw Lugo's feet rushing toward the bar, vaulting over it. There were several more gunshots in rapid succession, Lugo apparently having more than one gun, perhaps Eddie's. Jeremy didn't dare to move. One of the figures shooting at Lugo went down. There were more screams. Then silence. He couldn't see what was happening, but didn't want to reveal himself. 

Someone approached the table, pulling it away. There was a police officer staring down at Jeremy and the other man; Jeremy immediately threw up his hands to show he wasn't armed. He took in carnage around him--shattered glass, holes in the walls, blood. The bodyguard was dead, along with Eddie; considering the damage and all the splintered wood at the bar, Jeremy assumed Lugo was dead, too. The man who went down was a cop, who was still alive, and others were tending to him.

"Are you injured? Are you injured?" the cop was demanding. Jeremy couldn't find his voice, so he shook his head. "Go!" the cop shouted at him. "Outside! Go!" Other customers were running.

"Wait," Jeremy answered, standing. "The manager's office!" Before anyone could stop him he ran to the door and pounded on it. "Hammond! May!"

"Clarkson?" Jeremy could hear Richard on the other side.

"Unlock the door, it's over," Jeremy said, then he felt hands on him, pulling him away. "No wait...someone's hurt in there! Hammond! "

"Get him out of here!" The leader ordered. "Now!"

But getting Jeremy to leave wasn't so easy. For one, he was six-foot-five, larger than average in England. For another, he was determined, very determined. He kept struggling and calling out to Richard and James, bordering on hysteria. Finally they managed to push Jeremy to the background just before the door unlatched and opened.

***

For the unacceptably umpteenth time in his life, Richard Hammond was convinced he was going to die. And this time James would be with him.

As the footsteps charged down the hall to the door, he knew it was Eddie and Lugo. They had achieved their mission, they'd wiped out everyone else--Jezza included--and they were next. Richard hadn't made it easy, latching the door and placing a chair in front of it, but sooner or later they would get in. And as soon as he saw the doorknob begin to turn he knew what he was going to do: cover his love with his own body. They would be found like this, perfect physical evidence of how deep and special his love for James had become. There would never be any doubt, ever again, and had the roles been reversed James would have done the same.

"It'll be over soon," Richard said to James, who grinned serenely.

There was a pounding on the door, the sound something Richard had heard hundreds of times over the years in that way. Hope--wild, unexpected-- flared to sudden life. And when he heard Jeremy shout, "Hammond! May!" Richard wanted to burst into tears.

"Clarkson?" he asked, hardly daring to believe it. Then there was a different sort of pounding as Jeremy's shouting came further away. There was a different banging on the door as it sounded like someone was trying to get in. With a flash of blind, cold fear, Richard was suddenly aware James was in terrible shape, and the man he loved so completely, the one he was willing to die for, could die very soon on his own.

He unlatched the door and removed the chair. "Help! He screamed. "Hurry, Goddamn it!"


	9. Chapter 9

Unlike the last time James had been airlifted to hospital in such a delicate condition, Richard was now recognized, able to make medical decisions as a spouse and proxy. The authorities treated him carefully asking for his account of what happened.They listened attentively to the point he spent the last little while in the office with James. They were more interested in Jeremy's account, asking the same questions over and over. Jeremy had seen more, along with the other customers, who were all brought to the same hospital for examining. Two of the customers were dead, two injured in the final shootout. The cop Jeremy saw wounded was not seriously injured. And of course there was Lugo and Eddie. They were there to do a job and they failed; even though the bodyguard protecting the man they were supposed to kill had given his life, their intended target--a mob figure turned witness for the Crown and about to disappear into protective custody--was unharmed. If only James had been so lucky.

After questioning, Jeremy sat in the waiting room with Richard and James' sister Jane. Andy had shown up, and Jeremy's son Finlo, wanting to give his Dad support. "He's tough, Hammond," Andy tried to reassure Richard in a moment Richard looked quite lost. "James isn't as spectacularly tough as you, but he's tough as you. He's going to make it."

"Have I really done enough, though?" Richard asked. "Could I have talked to them, negotiated a way for James to get help earlier? Jeremy, you pulled that damn shard out, you saw how big and thick it was! There could be severe damage, he may even lose his arm! If he could have been brought to hospital earlier--"

"We'd have the same situation," Jeremy answered, "except we might not be here now. As it is, I don't think he could have been released sooner. There was no negotiating with them. They'd already killed two. They were going to keep us there, then kill us all."

"You did more than enough, Richard," Andy told him. "If you hadn't sent that text telling me to call 999, that there was trouble --"

"Text? What text?" Jeremy asked, confused. "Our mobiles were confiscated." Andy pulled out his mobile and showed the text Richard sent. Jeremy's blue eyes were wide with shock. "How the fuck did you manage this?"

"I have a second mobile," Richard answered casually. "I kept it in my front pocket. I simply didn't give it up."

Jeremy blinked as his son's eyes became huge. "You...you kept a mobile after everyone surrendered theirs by gunpoint? You planned to call for help the whole time?"

Richard nodded. "I didn't get a chance until we were allowed to use the loo," he said. "By that time James was in terrible shape. It was the only thing I could think to do."

For a moment Jeremy was at a loss for words. "Hammond, you blithering idiot!" he finally spluttered. "Do you--do you have _any fucking idea_ what would have happened if you'd been caught?! You'd be fucking dead!"

Richard shrugged. "Why do you think I kept it hidden?" He asked. "I'm not as smart as James, but I'm not stupid. It was a risk, but it was that or watch us die. I wasn't going without a fight."

Jeremy stared at his mate with wonder. What Richard had done went well beyond courageous, it was stunning in its heroism, but he would have told you it was something anyone would have done. There were others stronger and braver than him. He'd be the first to admit how scared he was, that he would have come close to a blind panic attack doing what he did, and therefore was no sign of courage in his part. What Jeremy and everyone knew about Richard though was that he would openly express his fear, tell everyone within the sound of his voice how scared he really was...and then go ahead and do it anyway. He'd done that so many times over the years Jeremy had actually lost count, but it was usually for work, he had a job to do and he was going to do it. Maybe that was a part of his charm, the fact that he really was some kind of superhero and didn't even know it. Mainly because it was done out of love: he loved his life, he loved the subject of his job. And he loved James, perhaps more than the rest of it. Considering that, it was no wonder Richard risked his own life in the restaurant, he was trying to help James.

The doctor walked into the waiting and approached Richard. His face looked calm. "He's lost a lot of blood," he said, "but James is stable."

The collective sigh was audible. "What about his arm?" Richard asked.

"The cut was deep, but once we got the bleeding under control we found there wasn't as much damage as we expected," the doctor answered. "There was still damage, however. His arm will have to be immobilized, and James will have to go through physical therapy to regain the use of it. But there's no reason to believe he won't be back to driving across the wilderness and getting in trouble with you two very soon."

"Where is he now?" Jeremy asked.

"He's in Recovery," the doctor replied. "James will be kept for several days, but we'll let you know when he's up for visitors."

Richard nodded. "Thank you," he replied, then let out a shaky chuckle. "I guess I'm not used to being on this side of things."

"Sucks, doesn't it?" Andy told him. "I always seem to be on this side. I'm used to it with you three, but I still don't like it."

The doctor smiled. "Imagine being the one who has to tell everyone what's happening," he added. "Be patient. You'll see him soon." Richard sighed, then he gradually wandered over to the doorway. Jeremy watched his shoulders slump. Even though he didn't say it, Jeremy could tell Richard was shedding tears, the tension of the entire evening falling out of him. He'd stepped away so he wouldn't have to face them. Jeremy simply left him alone.

***

When Richard was finally allowed to see James, it was already daylight. The room was dark, only the light behind the bed was on. James was hooked up to a series of drips and monitors, and he was asleep.

Richard sat beside James' bed and stared at the man, who looked pale, but peaceful in his rest. Richard had come close to losing the man he loved tonight through a freak accident; how many people are actually sliced open by a shattered mirror, to the point of nearly bleeding to death? And he realized James had been sitting in this chair far many more times on account of him than Richard had. Granted, he didn't want to even it up, he wasn't that competitive. Richard simply understood now the dedication, the sheer love James had to have to keep sitting in this chair by his side repeatedly, because it was tough enough the couple of times Richard had done it for him. He didn't think he had ever shown the same level of love back, but, boy, did he ever feel it. And assuming James got through this, Richard had a lot more to give to him.

To his surprise, Richard looked over to realize James was awake and looking right back at him, his blue eyes dark and sleepy, but present, studying his love intently. "Hi," James whispered.

Richard smiled back. "Hello yourself." He stood and bent over the bed, giving James a soft kiss. "Welcome back."

"Why can't I move my arm?" James asked with a tone of concern.

Richard studied James' arm carefully. The shoulder was stitched together, making James look a bit like Framkenstein's Monster. "They immobilized it to let you heal," he reassured him. "You're going to be alright. It's just going to take some time."

"I can remember shooting," James said. "You closed the door. We were going to die."

"We were rescued," Richard answered, taking James' good hand into his and squeezing it gently. "You, me, Jezza. All of us."

A slight grin appeared on James' face as his eyes welled up. "Thank God, because..." his voice broke. "The thought of the two of you being dead along with me..."

Richard sort of knew what James wanted to say, being under the influence of pain medication, but he couldn't resist the opportunity. "That is a fairly horrifying idea," he cracked. "The three of us spending Eternity together..."

James sighed. "What you did was incredibly brave," he said softly. "You would have been killed had you been caught. Why didn't that stop you, you stupid boy?"

Richard looked surprised. "You have to ask that?" he shot back. "I love you, you daft old man. "One of us had to survive, and it had to be you. It was the only thing that made it bearable." The kiss they shared was tender and full of emotion. "Now, you need to sleep and get better."

"And you need a shave," James joked. "I think the last time you had one was yesterday morning. That silly goatee is in danger of becoming a beard."

"Point taken. Here's the deal...if you agree to get some sleep, I'll deal with the facial hair."

"Deal," James replied, closing his eyes. After a moment James moved to speak again. "Hammond?"

"Yes?"

"I love you too." He fell asleep.


	10. Epilogue

"Let me straighten your tie, Hammond," James said, coming up behind Richard in the mirror. Both men were smartly dressed for the upcoming occasion. James readjusted the tie that was slightly askew, careful to not get the knot up against his Adam's Apple and choke him.

Richard was quietly in awe of his husband's dexterity in working the tie, considering just six months ago he'd wondered if James would lose the use of his arm, if not the arm itself. A lot of hard work and struggling had gone into the physical therapy needed, but Richard had faith in James; over the years he'd come to recognize just how stubborn James May could be when he got something into his head and became determined to do it. James had the incentive to make the physical therapy work, wanting desperately to return to his job the way Richard had in 2006 and 2007. When he finished, James smiled broadly. "Now, that's what I call a milestone," he said, proud of himself.

Richard admired himself in the mirror and smiled. "You know, I can be a loving, understanding husband and tell you that you are under no obligation to attend. I know how you feel about the trappings of the Monarchy, and making you sit through an MBE ceremony is sort of cruel, you know?" Indeed, Richard was becoming a Member of the British Empire, for his charity work for those with brain injuries, and for his heroism during that memorable dinner. But he also knew his beloved was also completely against the Monarchy as an institution, and Britain would be much better off if it stepped boldly into the 21st century and got rid of the Royals. 

"Well, that is a tempting offer, but this is a big deal for you," James offered. 

Richard shook his head. "It's ceremonial," he replied. "It's not like I inherit land or the MBE will help me make more money."

James laughed. "Like you and I need to make more money, Hammond," he stated. "But I did commit to attending, knowing what it is, because I love you and I am proud of you." He reached down and captured Richard's lips with his. "I promise I will behave myself."

"I know you will." Richard gave him a warm, goofy smile. "And afterwards I will give you a treat, for being so good." He turned serious. "For being a man I want to give my life to save, which is why I'm being given this honour in the first place."

James made a purring noise deep in his throat. "Does that somehow involve this bed?" he asked, his eyes glittering.

"The bed, the shower, the kitchen table..." there was a wicked gleam in Richard's eyes that tempted James to undo that tie he so carefully adjusted and show how he'd regained almost 100% of the movement in his arm. 

That, however, would have to wait. There was a ceremony to attend, in spite of his opinion. Because the one he belonged to saved his life, along with one of their best mates (who was about to demonstrate his impatience and start yelling upstairs any second). Because that man had made it his mission in life to help others. And yet if you asked him about it he'd tell you he was just himself and didn't quite understand all the fuss.

On cue the bellow came from downstairs: "You two better not be having sex up there! We're trying to eat breakfast!"

Richard and James laughed together. "The Call of the Orangutan," Richard quipped. "Come on. The girls are downstairs. I don't want Clarkson giving my daughters ideas."

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this. If you can find it online, the Starsky & Hutch episode that inspired this is called 'Shootout' from the 1st season. It's noted because Norman Fell was in this episode and he immediately went on to play the landlord on There's Company. And for American soap opera fans it also features a young Jess Walton, who was a star of The Young & the Restless for many years (and still makes appearances).
> 
> I will be taking a small posting break. I am working on a story but it's become epic in scope. I do know what happens, though, so please be patient. And of course your comments are always appreciated. Thanks.


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